DST demands a question: do we prefer to see people on the bus better going to work, or going home?

Mornings are depressing enough you probably don’t want to see your fellow passengers anyway.

But evenings you kind of just want the peace of mind afforded by a darkened metal tube stuffed with smelly strangers.

How do you decide? Well, luckily, as with every other crucial decision, you don’t have to decide: that’s what the government’s for! It’s also for public transportation.

One way to tell time is by cat sleep cycles. It’s a way, but it’s not a particularly good way.

We got a new kitty: Calla Lily. She looks like the flower so I insisted we name her accordingly.

It is kind of hard to say, to be honest. So she’s going to get variations on that name mixed with “Kitty,” which, it turns out, is her surname. She answers to it, at least. We got her to be a living statue in our house. A sphinx. She obliges and is certainly full of riddles. Where did you come from, where did you get that painted face? She looks past us and smiles. I’ll have to wait for the details.

She makes things interesting already. Turns out there is a ton of stuff to do under the futon. And also if you put your face in the door crack you can get high. Or something. Cats.

She doesn’t seem like a destroyer of worlds. Which makes me worry a little bit. Because when she does get pissed, something huge is going to go down.

Aren’t all cats enigmas? I think so. That’s why they’re fun to keep around. Plant them in your house and let them grow into funny little mysteries. They’ll drop a few clues now and then, usually. But Calla is cagey and seems less inclined to let me in on any of it.

That’s all right, we’re from different universes. But I’m happy she can crash in this one with us for awhile.

Maybe she can help me solve DST.